Nighthawks and Phoenix Tears
by The Jade Lady
Summary: Elenet's grand niece is no where similar to her quiet great aunt. Boisterous and looking for trouble, Rivalyn of Grumareth quickly finds herself embroiled in things that prove the proverb: curiosity killed the cat. Will this cat be saved by...a Merindar?
1. Default Chapter

Ok, so this is a story about Aunt Elenet's grand niece and Flauvic and Elestra's son, and war, and such, and ya. I hope most of the things are accurate although, I'm totally lost on the geography of Remalna so I'm doing the best I can. Goes the same to describing Grumareth, I'll just make it up .

Disclaimer: I do not own any of Sherwood Smith's characters, world, theme, etc. I own additional characters i.e. Rivalyn, Virgil, Leander, etc. Oh yes, and the titles are various titles of songs.

**Nighthawks and Phoenix Tears**

**C.I. : Glory Box**

A proper mage iss expected to be quiet, reserved creatures, who despise trouble. Interesting though, since they have to deal with it more often than not.

Hmph!

Well, suffice to say I was far from the "proper" mage, and take _lady_ with that! However, I presumed, this was the reason why I was stuck, kneeling in front of my bothersome school councilor, who presently appeared like a swollen beet root.

"Rivalyn!" he barked, a foot from my poor, sensitive ears.

"Yessir," I mumbled, peering at him through blue-black eyelashes.

"How many times—how many times! You know what you did?"

I didn't even attempt to answer.

"Don't answer that!" he added. I was brilliant.

He went on, "You endangered the riding, broke the Mage's Council's laws..."

_Hmph, they were small laws no one paid attention to...laws that were broken repeatedly unnoticed._

"...in I don't how many ways, and risked the safety of nearby town—and all to investigate a pair of Norsundrian brigands! I do not neglect the fact you are a smart sprite..."

_Sprite—Sprite?!_ _What am I an elf?_

"...and that you probably can imagine what happens when those ruffians spot a woman—and a Remalnan at that! DO YOU UNDERSTAND THE HAZARDS OF THIS SITUATION?"

I nodded. Sort of lame, I agree, but at the point, I couldn't do much else.

Exasperated, the mage Councilor, Virgil, plopped onto his twine chair.

"For goodness sake, Lyn. _You _could have gotten killed, and you've only just had your flower day and graduated from the Academy. Just because you've been certified does not mean you can do whatever you want." He waited for that to sink in, knowing, as well as I, that I would barely heed his words. "Lyn, I'm not trying to be the Greedy Galdran here, I just want to you to live at least a full life expectancy of a mage. You know that. Don't you?"

"Yes."

"Good, but I hope you also know better than to—well go about the world acting _stupid_. Think, for your sake, _think_ before you do something."

"Yessir."

"Now, go—go practice your spells or something, whatever you mages do."

With a groan from numbness creeping up my legs, I got up and fled from the Councilor's office.

On the way back to my dorm room, I thought about, for once, what Virgil had said. Well, I guess, not in the way he would have _liked me_ to "think about it." I admitted keenly that he was right about one thing: I _was_ a full-fledged certified adult mage.

My former dorm room only served to remind me further. Everything was in the middle of getting pack away. Scrying crystals and my set of prisms lay scattered on the bed, along with my old cloak and various books.

And there on the side table, atop the lamp lay my ceremonial graduation cap.

Hehehe....

Anyway, so here I was, savoring the knowledge that I wasan adult mage, meaning I would soon be able keep a small home to myself, have a job, and most importantly, be taken seriously (I hoped).

I would also actively go to court and learn more about Remalna's rulers. Seeing that I had spent most of my life in either Grumareth, my birthplace, or in the plateau of Western Sartor at Dyranarya Academy (where I learned rudimentary magic for four years), I had not been able to fully understand the court beyond books.

In fact, I had met King Vidanric and Queen Meliara at the graduation when they had come to see their granddaughter—Princess Oria's daughter—Ghali, who was also my very good friend. It was during that meeting that I had gotten myself a good job in Remalna's Southern Militia as a part of the magical force.

Well, when you said it like that it actually sounded grand. I mean, the force was a dinky composition of twenty third-rate magicians.

But,

My rebellious half was extremely pleased.

You see, Grumareth was kept away from urbanization for so long by the dastardly former Duke, it seemed to leech onto old traditions even after Aunt Mel's revolution and the war. Except for a few exceptions, Grumareth did not like its women entering the military.

It was a sort of unspoken taboo that even my Great Aunt Elenet could not break. She had tried, along with her only relation, her nephew (my father), but they simply had to sit back and respect the elders.

There are some things that people shouldn't tamper with.

_The hell with that._

I joined the militia against my mother's wishes and represented the women of Grumareth in Remalna's forces.

I did have father's and Aunt Elenet's support...but the decision had caused a temporary rift in the house. One that I was gladly able to escape when I returned to Sartor to pack my belongings.

Yet, it wasn't that I wanted to disobey Mum, but despite being old-fashioned, she had agreed to Dyranarya...so what did she expect me to do? Sit and conjure pompoms?

No, I was here to rebel and change musty traditions that did not pertain to the present day. So, from my vantage, that was the point of my life, while also being polarized to my mother's and most of Grumareth's public's views on the duty of a proper duchess. I knew my position clearly and understood the reality of my hopes for my future when I relayed my plans to my former childhood friend from Savona.

I say former because she is my friend no more.

In fact "former" does not do the woman justice, for the moment she heard, she had no trouble striking me with a critical opinion and a barrage of nasty insults. I couldn't help but weep in bed, something I hadn't done for a century.

It helped to know that her nasty behavior ran in the family.

To my great relief, however, I recovered from the incident quickly enough by simply scolding myself that a military officer ought to be tougher. Besides, who needed a friend anyway; I was fully capable of doing this on my own, or so I thought. But, I'll come to that part a little later.

I reached our house that was built on a beautiful hill by a tributary of the Akaeriki River. Father wasn't home yet, probably scouring the lands for unrest. Still, Mother was home, helping the steward cook what smelled like my favorite pie.

She loved to cook.

Too bad I couldn't.

When she saw me enter, she dropped a bowl with a painted laurel leaf border, the contents spilling over the scrubbed stone floor.

Ignoring the mess, she scuttled over to me and embraced me in a body-pulping hug.

"Where were—what were you thinking?" She sobbed.

I sighed into her shoulder. No matter what I did in life and what they thought of it, Mother and Father I would always love. Yet this truth did not persuade me into telling them about my future plans of radical revolution and finally booting out those invaders. I felt guilty somehow, but with the incident with my former friend, I was glad I had not let it slip.

I chose not to say anything. Today, I felt like keeping my thoughts to myself, which was very unlike me. So my adventure of the day remained hidden behind a screen of secrecy.

Mother practically lifted me and placed me on a stool before a table laden with a scrumptious meal awaiting hungry consumers.

I only realized how ravished I was once I gulped a spoonful of soup. I finished the rest of my dinner, scarcely chewing the food. My stomach was so anxious for something to digest, that if I didn't give it something to chew, the acids would burn a whole through my own muscle and skin. As a good mother would, she sent me to my room, threatening that if I didn't get to sleep within five minutes, she would hang me on the flagpole.

Under the warm, feather filled comforter, I began my routine of formulating a plan to joining the real army instead of the small mage force I had signed into.

Dressing and acting like a male would be out of the question, for it was against my true objective. Besides, it was not like Remalna forbade girls to fight, it was only Grumareth.

Persuasion was close to not plausible (I had strong confidence in the cliché, "Anything is possible.").

Recalling my other suggested plans, I slowly sorted through them, knocking them off the "possible plan list" for various reasons as I went. When I was finished, I was left with only four plans, one of which was much more possible than the rest.

First and foremost, I had to be taken seriously.

The plan was to "accidentally" find myself in an either created or real skirmish between the guards and some gang, and heroically grab a sword and defend a helpless rider. The plan was still quite far-fetched, but then again, it was better then the other three which all exerted some injury.

Yes, with this plan I would certainly not be hurt. I was a mage after all.

As I mulled over the now set strategy, I felt sleep spread over me like warm butter over morning toast, and happily gave in to its irresistible, rich flavor.

I woke up to the bells chiming second gold, and out of annoyance, I groped from something big, and flung the lamp out the window as if I could shatter the bells. I winced at the loud crash somewhere below near the entrance, and smothered my face into a large pillow.

Big mistake.

"LYN!" my mother bellowed from the other side of my door. I flinched into my pillow, anticipating the next words: GET OUT OF BED THIS INSTANT! I rolled off my bed and thudded onto to the hard, wooden, very uncomfortable—and did I say hard?—floor.

"Yes mother," I automatically replied, as I rubbed both my sore ends (head and butt for those clueless) vigorously.

On the way to the bath, fatigue gripped me and forced me to stub my toe and smack my head on the protruding bathroom door. Cursing, I stepped into one of those new _showers_ that resembled a waterfall, forgetting that I still was clad in a night shirt and shorts. Pulling the lever, icy water cascaded over my head with brutal force. I shrieked.

"Mooooooooooom!"

"What!" came the answer.

"The water's cold!"

"I told you! I told your father, but no! Those new abominations never work properly"

"N—n—now w—w—what?" I stuttered.

"Humph! Where are those oh so keen magical spells of yours?"

I cursed again. If this kept up, I'd be a fine warrior one day. The thought made me grin.

Seeing that there was no hope for a hot shower anytime soon, I grabbed a towel and awkwardly wrapped it around my sodden cloths.

Since the prospect of hypothermia didn't quite hit the "first on the list", I changed into a comfortable pair of breeches and a white canvas shirt. Sniffing the sent of a coming storm in the weather, I pulled on a black, waterproof cloak that came midway down my calves. There would be action today, so I bound up waist length, wavy hair that I had dyed into many shades of blue.

I snickered remembering my mother's jaw hit the floor and my father give me an odd look with one eyebrow lifted, the other scrunched down. Such radical ideas could only be picked up as a teenager in a boarding school.

Now to get out of the stuffy old mansion.

I ran towards the window and somersaulted over the balcony branch, floating down toward the front yard. Hurriedly saying "thank you," I grabbed the piece of meat pie Sroa, my maid and good friend, held out for me.

I took to the air in a spurt of blue sparks. Yes, I was ridiculously showing off, but I found that the children around the place found it entertaining.

I heard ooh's and aaaah's all over the mansion, and grinned. Alighting near the stable, a calmness and sense of belonging enveloped my senses and emotions once I smelled the fresh country odor. I gently saddled Bluefire, my trusty steed, and galloped out on pathway to downtown.

YYYYYYY

Hope you liked it...as I'm having writer's block for the other story... - jade

Coming up:

**C.II. : That's When I Reach For My Saber **


	2. Author's Note

A/N:

Hey, sorry i know its been a long time, but i realized that this story wasnt really meant to be a fanfic so i've posted it as an original fiction on It's called Happiness is a Warm Gun. Check it out, and tell me what you think, thanks!

Punchadara


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